if i were my uncle's noose

dedicated to my beloved uncle. rest in peace tito eduard.

if it meant

sparing him,

i would have never

found my way

into his

desperate,

shaking hands

in the first place.

 

if it meant

seeing his smile again,
i would have never

wrapped my arms

around his neck,

rubbing, chafing.

 

if it meant

hearing his voice again,

i would have never

hugged tree branches

or clasped my fingers around

ceiling fans.

 

if it meant

sharing a laugh with him again,

i would have unraveled

and slipped

through his fingers

and the threads

that fell

to the ground

would spell out

the words

“i’m sorry”.

 

and each night

when my mind is full

and my mouth is empty

when my heart sinks

and becomes swallowed up
by regret

i drown in my own tears

as my head fills with thoughts

about how better life might be

for the both of us

had i said those words earlier…

 

oh, it brings a thousand oceans to my eyes.